


The One Thing

by LadyofAvalon



Category: Provost's Dog - Tamora Pierce
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-09
Updated: 2012-06-09
Packaged: 2017-11-07 08:26:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyofAvalon/pseuds/LadyofAvalon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rosto the Piper was the King of the Rogue.  He had everything he could ever want.  Except for one thing: Beka Cooper's affection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Thing

Rosto the Piper was the King of the Rogue. He had everything he could ever want. Except for one thing: Beka Cooper's affection. She was a rising young Dog in Corus, while he was the Rat-King, the King of Thieves. She had so vehemently denied that she had affection for the handsome Scanran that he had finally believed her and given up. He loved her, but she did not love him. He would watch her leave their lodgings every day for Watch and wish that she felt the same way he did. Every once in a while, he would ask her if she'd changed her mind, but the answer was always the same: no.

Eventually, he even stopped asking her that, because he knew that she had gotten involved with another young Dog. Rosto could see that she was happy with someone else, and it hurt. He would still watch her, but without hope.

Beka glanced at him one day over breakfast. He leaned back in his chair, staring despondently at the wall opposite him. His sable eyes were empty. The mischievous glitter that she had come to know and expect from him wasn't there. There was nothing in his eyes, nothing but hopelessness. No hope, no pride, just hopelessness. He didn't notice that she was looking at him, or what anyone else was doing. He picked absently at the food on his plate. He didn't even seem to realize what he was doing.

"Rosto?" Beka shifted towards him a little, more than slightly worried about him. He jerked up, his face tightened, and his body tensed.

"Hmm? What?" He inquired, glancing at her, and a fresh wave of pain washed over his mind. It must have showed, because her forehead creased slightly as she frowned. Everyone at the table was now watching Rosto and Beka.

"Are you alright?" She asked. He nodded unenthusiastically.

"Fine. Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself." He got up and walked away, not even turning to glance back. Beka and the others just watched him go. Rosto had changed since he had come to Corus, he had changed since he had become the Rogue, but this was the most profound change yet. Beka couldn't help but wonder what had caused it. She frowned at the food in front of her, dismissing every possible reason she could come up with. Why was he acting like that? She would have to talk to Aniki when the other mot wasn't discussing Rogue business with Phelan. Or, she could talk to Rosto herself. She would have to eventually.

Eventually, she got up and made her way upstairs, pausing by Rosto's door. She knocked softly, but there was no reply. Beka's frown deepened as she heard soft movements in the room, but still, no response came. She knocked again, harder.

"Rosto, I know you're in there. Answer the door," she told him. A heavy sigh was the response she received.

"Why?"

"Because I want to talk to you. Please, open the door," she said, almost pleading with him.

After a moment, the door opened, revealing an emotionless Rosto the Piper. His eyes were dull, as they had been earlier, but there was something in them this time. It took Beka several moments of gazing into his eyes to realize that it was pain and sorrow.

"What do you want, Beka?" Rosto asked, meeting her gaze steadily. Once, those eyes had made her shiver with the intensity of them. The passion was gone, the pure life that Beka had become so used to wasn't there. It was as if he had given up the will to live. She stared at him for a few moments, her mind unable to see any reason for this change. "Beka. What do you want?" He asked again.

"Oh, I just…I wanted to make sure you were alright, Rosto." As she watched him, his mouth tightened, and he shifted just a little.

"I'm as well as I can be. Only one thing ails me, and that is of no concern to you. It is not life threatening, nor can it be fixed or changed at this point," he told her. His voice was flat and emotionless. "Good day, Beka." With that, he closed the door. He leaned back against it, tears just barely forming in his dark brown eyes. What a lie. Of course it concerned her. It was his heart that ailed him, and it was because of her.

On the other side of the door, Beka was staring at it. It wasn't as if he had been rude or anything to her, but she knew there was something wrong, and he wasn't telling her. She could bet that it was her of her concern, too, judging by his actions. Rosto wouldn't act in a way that wasn't either how he felt or how he needed to act. With a last glance, she walked away from the door, leaving Rosto to think on his own.

Rosto sighed again, and moved to the window of his room. As he stood there, he pulled out one of his pipes, pulled a chair up to the window, and began playing a melody as he thought. He knew he was dying – his heart told him so. Beka had broken it with her total refusal. Sure, there were other mots who would do anything to have Rosto's affections, but none of them were Beka. It was she who held his heart, and she who did not want it. Before he had met her, he had scoffed the tales of those who died of a broken heart, such as Kenelm the Strong, who had been in a similar situation to Rosto. The man had been a warrior from the South, come to Tortall to make his fame. He had met a young mot by name of Jocelyn Callista, and had fallen so deeply in love with her that, when she had spurned his love for her, he had died of a broken heart.

Rosto could feel himself dying, always just a little more each day. He had no hope of Beka changing her mind. She was too firmly footed with her 'never a rusher' stance. She would never accept him because of that, because all she saw was the rusher. He was her friend, but that was as far as she was willing to let it go. She had once told him that she believed that a cove who lived by violence in one part of his life would live by it in his entire life. She didn't see that, though he was the Rogue, he was also just a man, one who felt things just as she did. One who needed her to realize who he was, and love him for who he was. That was why Rosto had given up hope. It was better that way, not to hope for something he knew wouldn't come. He could never hope that she would change her mind now. Besides, his time was drawing to a close. What use did he have for false hope?

Finally, the time came for Beka to leave for Watch. He heard her soft footsteps come down the stairs and go past his door. With a sigh, he ended the mournful tune he had been playing for the last few moments and put the pipe away. He stood at the window and let his gaze follow Beka as she walked toward the Kennel. After a few moments, he made his own way downstairs. Little did he know what was ahead.

* * *

Beka Cooper walked back towards the Dancing Dove and the lodging house as calmly as she could. She had broken off her relationship with Townsend Featherstone, the Day Watch Dog who had been courting her. He was nice enough, but there was something missing, the spark that made the relationship worthwhile. There was only one person who had that spark. She only felt it when Rosto had flirted with her or kissed her.

Then it hit her. That was why Rosto had been acting strangely towards her. He had offered his heart to her, and she had effectively thrown it away, shattering it. That was why his eyes were dull and he acted as though he had no will left to live – he had everything he could ever want, except for his heart's greatest wish: her. He had given up hope, because she had told him that she could never love a rusher.

Beka paused on the street, just before she neared the Dove. There was absolute silence. Not a sound came from the Dancing Dove, not even the roar of drunken coves, or the giggle of a doxy. Nothing. Beka's eyes widened slightly and she dashed over to the door. People parted as she moved through, and her mouth fell open as she stared at the scene in front of her. Two bodies were sprawled in front of the Rogue's dais. They were both lay still and silent. One was Rosto, the other a cove she didn't recognize. The second cove's throat was cut, but it was not he who Beka's eyes fell upon. It was the all too still form of Rosto the Piper. A thin red line on the right side of his neck seeped blood as he lay there with his eyes closed. Beka looked up at Aniki, who had a horrified look on her face. The other mot met her eyes and they reacted in the same instant.

"OUT!" They bellowed in unison. Afraid of the Dog and the Queen of the Rogue, everyone but Kora and Phelan fled. The two of them closed the shutters and moved to stand over at the door so that no one else could enter. Slowly, Beka knelt down next to him, studying his face. Her eyes stung slightly as she softly brushed a few strands of white-blond hair from his face. He could have been sleeping. His face was peaceful – his eyes were closed and his lips were just slightly parted. Her breath caught in her throat; a dry sob escaped her as she watched him.

It couldn't be happening. He had won, he couldn't be dead. He just couldn't. Though she tried to fight them, tears filled her eyes. She closed them, willing herself not to cry.

A low groan, no more than a pained exhalation, sounded next to her. Beka opened her eyes to see Rosto blinking blearily and moving his head just slightly. His breathing was shallow, and he was paler than usual, but he was alive. His night-black eyes fell on her and his expression became confused. It nearly broke her heart to see him look at her like that, the way he looked so lost and vulnerable.

"Beka?" He asked. His deep voice was barely there, but the disbelief was unmistakable. She found herself unable to do anything but nod tearfully. A weak smile curled his lips when his eyes met hers. "Didn't know ye cared," he muttered almost unintelligibly.

"Of course I care, you white-haired looby! Of course I care," she told him softly.

"My hair's na white. 's blond," he mumbled in reply. Beka looked up when she heard footsteps near the door. Kora had disappeared, to get a healer, no doubt, Beka's mind registered. Rosto's hand moved slightly and found hers. He squeezed it weakly, and let out a light sigh. He closed his eyes, and Beka was worried for a moment until she once again heard the rhythmic sound of his now steady, though shallow, breathing. Beka began stroking his hair, trying to make him comfortable while they waited for a healer as much as to comfort herself. For the first time, she realized what her heart had been trying to tell her all along. There was truly more of a connection of friendship between her and Rosto; she had come to love him as he loved her. She just hadn't realized it until she had thought she'd lost him. That made her wonder if she could deal with it again if they got close and he lost. Whatever the future would bring, she would have to be ready for it, and maybe, just maybe, Rosto would be at her side to help her through it.


End file.
